


spicy, static (i need more)

by lowblow



Category: TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Kissing, M/M, assorted bangtan cameos, maknaeline live to roast soobin, the author is not subtle with their yeonjun bias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowblow/pseuds/lowblow
Summary: “You need to get out of your room, hyung. When was the last time you got laid?”“That’s literally? None of your business?” Soobin sputtered, ears glowing.“So it’s been a while.” Taehyun hummed as Huening Kai scrunched up his face in mock grief. “At the prime of his youth and impotent.” he sniffled. “It’ssosad.”[or, Soobin gets dragged along to a party and gets more than he bargained for]
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 108
Kudos: 2128





	1. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies in advance for making jjk the token rich party host.

Taehyun is clutching Soobin’s arm hard enough to bruise, and honestly? Soobin can relate.

“ _This_ is Jeongguk’s house?” Heuning Kai’s jaw gently brushes the premium, varnished walnut-wood floor. “I’ve been to airports smaller than this, holy shit!”

Soobin wasn’t too big on the whole party scene himself, preferring to sink any free time he got from uni into takeout and campy Netflix reality shows. He could order pizza for four (for one) and never had to go to an 8 am class with a hangover. He could go to bed at _a reasonable hour_. Yeah, Soobin was perfectly satisfied with his lifestyle choices. 

That being said, the scene before them makes him feel like he’s been missing out. This had to be the most tricked-out bachelor pad he’d ever seen. And everyone, no seriously _everyone_ he’s ever met and their second-cousins seem to be here, all in varying states of drunkenness. Was that his TA? Soobin’d never seen a rainbow vape before.

So this was how the other half lived.

Taehyun breaks the spell by grabbing a bright green drink off a nearby counter and downing it in one shot. “Let’s just find Beomgyu-hyung. He’s cool, he’ll know what to do.”

“Hm, debatable.” grins Kai. Nevertheless, he obligingly follows his roommate through a mass of grinding bodies before Soobin can process that he’d indirectly been declared uncool by Taehyun of all people. Taehyun, who reads Foucault for fun. 

The night had begun like like this: with Soobin in a dorm room that closely resembled a small town in the wake of a tornado, or some kind of multicoloured beast with socks for eyes. 

He’d tried squinting his eyes, tilting his head this way and that but was still unable to differentiate between the two virtually identical shirts that Taehyun had shoved in his face.

“They look the same to me, though?”

“Hyung!” Taehyun had whined uncharacteristically. “ _This one_ is more blue-ish than the other one and look. It has an embroidered pocket.” Soobin simply nodded as if this should have been perfectly obvious as Taehyun dived back inside the closet for inspiration. 

“Why do you care so much about how you look, anyway? It’s just a party, Taehyun.” Soobin had said, two years of general university drudgery more than enough to fade the memory of being a nervous freshman himself, trying to act cooler than he was. 

“ _Just a party?_ ” Taehyun’s voice went up an octave. He shared a look with Kai (who was lounging on his bed watching vine compilations) as if to say _Can you believe this guy_. Soobin rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s an off-campus party, hello, and secondly,” Taehyun paused for dramatic effect. “It’s _Jeongguk-sunbae’s_ party.”

“But you’re freshmen!” Soobin said, affronted. “Even _I_ haven’t been to a Jeongguk party.”

“That’s not exactly a high bar to cross.” Taehyun muttered, fixing a stray lock of hair in the mirror. “Besides,” he’d continued, louder. “You need to get out of your room, hyung. When was the last time you got laid?”

“That’s literally? None of your business?” Soobin had sputtered, ears glowing. 

“So it’s been a while.” Taehyun hummed as Huening Kai scrunched up his face in mock grief. _“_ At the prime of his youth and impotent.” he’d sniffled. “It’s _so_ sad.”

“To reiterate — shut up, Hyuka — who and when I chose to do t-that with has nothing to do with you guys!” Soobin paused, flustered. “And what do you mean _I_ need to get out? I’m not even invited, though?”

Huening Kai rolled over to shoot Soobin a conspiratory wink. It was sort of worrying. “Beomgyu-hyung knows a guy.”

His brows drew together. “Well, _technically,_ this guy in Beomgyu-hyung’s dance class knows a guy who knows someone’s sister who’s invited, and so _he_ invited Beomgyu-hyung, and Beomgyu-hyung invited me, his favorite (“ _Lies._ ” said Taehyun). And of course, once Taehyun heard it was Jeongguk’s party he invited himself.” Kai grinned. “And now, we’re inviting you!” 

Soobin sighed. “But—”

“Hyung, c’mon.” Kai made his best puppy face — the one he knew Soobin couldn’t resist. “You’ll have us there for moral support. I’ll be the world’s best wingman and everything.”

“The last thing I need is you guys hovering around making things awkward on the off chance I _do_ meet someone.”

“Not to fear, hyung.” Taehyun held up a reassuring hand. “If things get uncomfortable, I’ll simply wow them with my card tricks.” Soobin knew he was being serious. 

“Hyung, please don’t let me be the only one next to the guy doing card tricks!” cried Huening Kai, panicky. “I need you!”

Despite being roasted to death just moments prior, Soobin ruffled his hair fondly, his hyung-senses appeased. “Well, if you _need_ me.”

 _“Kiss-ass.”_ Taehyun mouthed at them through his reflection in the mirror, but Soobin caught a grin before he pulled a turtleneck over his head.

Soobin considered it. Their reasons for wanting him to go along might’ve be impure but their hearts were in the right place. Oh hell, why not? It _had_ been a while since Soobin had had a night out, after all. Maybe he could steal a couple of selfies with Jeongguk himself, if he was lucky.

Less than a minute. That’s how long it had taken for them to abandon Soobin, promises of “moral support” found dead in a ditch. He’d remember this.

Jeongguk’s place was huge and there was a lot to do and see. He’d wandered around for a while, had a few drinks, socialised with people from the Food Science department, and generally had a decent time. A cute noona from his Humanities 201 who’d pointed him in the direction of the bathroom after he’d gotten lost had even complimented him on his jacket — a black denim one from Taehyun’s reject pile. Soobin had been uncertain about it since it was a tad short on him, so it was nice to be reassured that he still looked like a snack.

All in all, Soobin decides that parties are neat but whether or not they're better than pizza for four (for one) and Terrace House was still up for debate. 

Honestly, the strangest thing about the atmosphere of the evening was how unspeakably, unbearably horny everyone seemed to be. Soobin had accidently walked in on more than one couple going at it in darkened rooms in his quest to find the kitchen. One couple had even slurred at him to join them. Soobin had backed away so fast that he’d nearly tripped over his own feet, bowing repeatedly as he apologised. The heady bubblegum-flavoured smoke in the room had made his eyes water.

He’s leaning against a wall, flicking through Taehyun’s Instagram stories — Kai, who’d started drinking all of two months ago, was going to attempt a keg stand, the madman — and wondering whether it’s time to call it a night when someone presses a can of chilled beer into his palm. Soobin turns to politely tell whoever it was that _he doesn’t do beer, it’s far too bitter for him_ when the words traitorously die in his throat after coming face to face with one of the most gorgeous people he’s ever seen.

The hair is the first thing he notices: electric blue and wavy, tucked behind a silver studded ear. Next are the catlike eyes and a smirk playing on full, bow lips. Long, _long_ legs. Soobin belatedly realises that he’s staring. 

“See something you like?”

It’s the cheesiest line in existence, but it must be true what they say about things in life simply coming easier to hot people because the guy pulls it off.

Seeing as Soobin.exe had unexpectedly stopped working, his tongue decides to go ahead with what it was last tasked with. “No thank you!”

The guy looks taken aback, like he wasn’t expecting such a straightforward rejection. _Ah fuck! Fucking shit—_

“The beer!” Soobin blurts out. “N-no thanks, I don’t drink beer.”

To his relief, the blue-haired Adonis cracks a smile. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem offended at Soobin’s verbal inadequacy. The beer disappears and is replaced with a glass of something fruity and orange, so fast that Soobin wonders if he’d pulled it out of thin air. Taehyun would be impressed.

“I’m Yeonjun.” he says, handing Soobin the drink. “Soobin.” Soobin says, licking his lips. It’s not intentional — they’re dry as hell and he really should’ve taken up Kai’s offering of chapstick earlier — but it doesn’t escape him how Yeonjun’s eyes track the movement.

“Are you on your own tonight?” Yeonjun asks, gaze flicking back up to meet Soobin’s. Ah, it made sense that this beautiful stranger was just taking pity on him. Soobin must’ve looked like a friendless loner the way he’d been standing in a corner with his phone.

“I came with a couple of my juniors, but they ditched me as soon as we got here.” Soobin confesses.

“Lucky!” Yeonjun’s eyes twinkle. “I get to have you all to myself.” Soobin feels his ears grow impossibly warm and hopes to all that is holy that they aren’t visible in the dim light of the penthouse. 

“Crazy party, huh?” Yeonjun says, surveying the makeshift dance floor. The DJ is a short blonde dude who Soobin doesn’t know by name but vaguely remembers seeing around campus in his freshman year. “I lost my friends a while ago too.”

Soobin smiles at the phrasing. “Sorry for your loss.” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad.” Yeonjun says, without missing a beat. “Car accident.”

“God I wish that were me.” 

“I know right? Gotta pay those pesky student loans somehow.” It’s no laughing matter, but Soobin laughs anyway as they clink their glasses together in broke Gen Z solidarity.

“I took the harder road,” Yeonjun sighs. It’s a soft, huffy sound. Soobin’s eyes are drawn to the thin, black choker around his neck. “Part-timing at the uni cafe.”

Wait. “The one near the theatre block?” asks Soobin.

“Mm. The one and only.”

“Liar.”

Yeonjun looks surprised. “No, I really do.”

“No, you don’t.” Soobin says firmly. “I practically live at that cafe — they have the best choco croissants — and I _know_ I’ve never seen you there 'cause I would’ve definitely—” Soobin stops when he sees Yeonjun covering his mouth like he’s trying not to laugh. The implication of his unsaid words sink in. _I would’ve definitely remembered you._

 _“_ I — I mean!” Soobin valiantly tries to recover, but Yeonjun stops him by taking one of his hands in his. Soobin feels like he might pass out with how fast his heart is beating. “Let’s go sit down somewhere, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” Soobin mumbles.

Yeonjun ducks his head in the direction of a nearby couch covered in a funky pop print. They fall onto it still holding hands. Soobin can’t help but stare. Was anyone else seeing this shit? Astounding, unprecedented, unparallelled. Then Yeonjun crosses his legs and Soobin has to deal with averting his gaze for more than one reason. Though in his defense, he can hardly be blamed when Yeonjun’s jeans looked two seconds away from ripping apart at the seams with how tight they were.

“I work the night shift.” Yeonjun explains, twisting his hand so their palms lie flat against each other. Soobin dimly registers that Yeonjun must be older than him, since freshmen and sophomores weren't allowed to work after seven. “It’s pretty slow until before finals week. Then everyone wants ultra-black double espressos or some shit equivalent all night long.” 

“Couldn’t be me.” Soobin manages. “I like my coffee weak with tons of cream and sugar. The frills are the best part, y’know?

“Makes sense.” Yeonjun nods. “Sweet drinks for a sweet dude.”

“ _Sunbae!”_

“Yo, that’s so formal. Call me hyung, I’m only a year older than you.” Yeonjun says, and Soobin doesn’t think to ask how he knows that. “Hey Soobinie, your hands are pretty big, huh?”

“Hm? Yeah I guess.” Soobin says, blindsided by the sudden nickname. Yeonjun’s fingers are dancing in and around Soobin’s own, stroking his knuckles, rubbing circles into the back of his thumb. Soobin is very aware of how he’s sandwiched between the armrest and Yeonjun, Yeonjun's side pressed flush against his own on the couch. It’s interesting, since it’s a pretty big couch.

“S-so, do you know the host?” Soobin says, clearing his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to not overthink their proximity without the distraction of conversation.

Yeonjun grins. “Who _doesn’t_ know Jeon Jeongguk?” Uh, duh, obviously. Soobin’s an idiot.

Yeonjun goes on talking. “We go to the same dance class. I’m a third year dance minor.”

“I have a friend who’s a dance minor!” Soobin says excitedly. “Choi Beomgyu. Maybe you guys know each other?”

Yeonjun tilts his head in thought. “Beomgyu? Beomgyu... describe him, maybe we do.”

“Brownish hair, pretty face? He’s a sophomore.”

“Oh _that_ guy. Seems nice at first but doesn’t respect anyone?”

“That’s him.” Soobin sighs.

“He straight up called me gross once ‘cos I brought a mint chip bar to class.” 

Soobin’s distress at Beomgyu’s behavior is eclipsed by this potentially game-changing news. “Yeonjun-sunbae, mint chip _is_ gross.”

“ _You’re_ gross!” Yeonjun drops their hands immediately, making Soobin snort. “I thought we could be friends but it turns out you’re just a tasteless fool. Go hang out with your Beomgyu and his _pretty face_.”

“You’re prettier.” Soobin says honestly, without thinking.

Yeonjun lets out a sharp laugh, like Soobin had surprised him. Soobin covers his face with his hands, feeling his ears grow red. They’re his most annoying tell — he wishes he could pull off long hair like Huening Kai so he could cover his ears all the time. 

“You’re the type to say the first thing that comes into your mind and get embarrassed a second later, huh?” Yeonjun’d basically hit the nail on the head, not that Soobin was about to admit it.

Next to Yeonjun, Soobin feels even more out of depth in his own skin than usual. He’s always speculated that he must be a small individual in a tall person’s body, the way his limbs sometimes feel too big for the rest of him and his laugh too loud. 

But it’s also exhilarating — how easily conversation seems to flow between them; how Yeonjun could be talking to anyone, _anyone_ at this party right now but instead he was here, holding hands with Soobin. How Soobin has been raving about Terrace House for ten odd minutes and Yeonjun still doesn’t look bored.

“ — and like, even though they have to share this living space it’s not awkward or anything?” Soobin struggles to find words that express the magnitude of his feelings. “At the end of the day, they all really care about each other.”

“What, so there’s no drama?”

“There’s _no_ drama, is the thing!”

“Sounds wholesome.” Yeonjun hums. “It suits you.” Soobin tilts his head to ask what he means by that, _Soobin is a badass thank you very much_ when he realises Yeonjun’s face is just inches away from his. When had they gotten so close? 

“We should watch it together, sometime.” says Yeonjun, and Soobin doesn’t have time to process the notion of Yeonjun being interested in him beyond the bubble of this party, this couch, because Yeonjun, still radiant, is standing up and tugging at Soobin’s wrist and saying _do you want to dance_ and Soobin is… going along with it? He’s completely caught up in Yeonjun’s rhythm, powerless to resist. 

The bass thumps reckless and familiar and Soobin learns that Yeonjun is a really, really good dancer. He’s glad that the crowd makes being all up in each other’s personal space necessary because he doesn’t think he can keep his hands off Yeonjun if he tried. The way Yeonjun’s moving his hips is something sinful.

At some point, Yeonjun curls an arm around his waist and brings the other around to the back of Soobin’s neck to press their foreheads together as they move in beat to the music. It’s sweaty and hot, but even though they’ve been dancing for a while, Yeonjun doesn’t look half as out of breath as Soobin feels. His face is flushed and triumphant, and Soobin can feel the heat radiating off him in waves. Soobin wants to be closer, closer. 

“What was that?” Yeonjun says when Soobin’s words are lost in sound. 

“I said, I’m really glad I came out here tonight.”

Yeonjun smiles, “Me too, dude.”

“And, um,” Soobin plucks up his courage before it runs away, “To answer your earlier question, I, uh, do like it. What I see, I mean.”

There’s a hot second in which Yeonjun’s whole body goes still, his hands on Soobin’s chest. People dance all around them, but time seems to freeze in place. Soobin wants to hit himself. _God, that sounded so stupid, he probably doesn’t even rememb—_

Then Yeonjun breaks out into laughter and it’s the best thing Soobin’s heard all night, or like, ever, maybe. “You’re so cute, Soobinie.” he says, eyes crinkling like wrapping paper on Christmas.

Soobin isn’t given too long to dwell on it, though, because Yeonjun— Yeonjun is, fuck, sliding his fingers through Soobin’s belt loops and pulling him closer until their hips are aligned. Then he leans in, close enough for his breath to tickle the shell of Soobin’s ear and whispers,

“I can be cute too. Wanna see?”

Soobin finds it in himself to nod. Once, twice, vigorously. Yeonjun just grins and grazes his teeth against Soobin’s earlobe like a promise. He just as quickly pulls away — Soobin misses the warmth immediately — and saunters off the dancefloor, gesturing for Soobin to follow.

_Holy shit._

“Are you— _ah_ — sure we can be up here,” Soobin gasps as Yeonjun slides a cool hand under the hem of Soobin’s shirt, making him forget his train of thought and possibly his own name. _“Yeonjun-sunbae.”_

Somehow, against all odds and Soobin’s raging semi, they’d kicked open doors until they’d found a tiny, narrow room, bare except for a beat-up green couch and a couple of cardboard boxes overflowing with what Soobin had briefly processed as exercise equipment before he’d been pushed onto said couch, Yeonjun climbing on top of him.

“I thought,” Yeonjun huffs into his mouth, biting Soobin’s lip reproachfully. “I told you to call me hyung.” 

Yeonjun straddles Soobin, hands running through his hair in frantic motions, tugging softly — an action that shouldn’t be so hot but is. Yeonjun’s fingers find one of Soobin’s ears and absentmindedly pull. It surprises them both when Soobin moans, loud in the empty room.

“You liked that, Soobinie?” Yeonjun grins down at him, face a picture of desire and glee. God, he was stunning. His blue hair was all messed up and his lips were bruised red and _wet_ . Soobin grabs the lapels of Yeonjun’s jacket by way of answer and crashes their mouths together again. _Why_ was he still wearing a jacket. It didn’t seem fair seeing how Soobin’s had ended up on the floor mere seconds after they’d stumbled in through the door.

Yeonjun is a better kisser than him, by a long shot. Soobin supposes it’s just one of the many things at which Yeonjun excels. It’s kind of embarrassing that Soobin hasn’t had any practice of late, but he makes up for his lack of skill with sheer enthusiasm and perseverance. He wanted to make Yeonjun feel as good as he did now.

Experimentally, he grinds upwards, his clothed dick rubbing against Yeonjun’s and it’s worth it for the sound Yeonjun makes, sweet and high. Soobin takes the opportunity to press kisses just this side of too hard into the thin skin of Yeonjun’s exposed collarbone. 

“Do that again.” Yeonjun gasps. Soobin takes it as a challenge, rolling his hips just to force more sounds of Yeonjun. His teeth find that damned choker, tugging lightly.

“So pretty.” Soobin mumbles nonsensically into the other’s neck. “You’re so pretty, hyung.” 

Yeonjun pushes at his shoulders and Soobin briefly wonders whether he’d done something wrong, crossed an unknown line, until Yeonjun blinks down at him, color high in his cheeks. “Hey Soobin, I really wanna suck you off. That cool?”

Soobin doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. What could he, logically, objectively, _whatever_ when the most beautiful boy he’d ever met was clambering down to his knees in front of Soobin and expertly unbuckling his belt. All he knew was that this was how he was going to die. He was going to die and it was going to feel so good.

Yeonjun pulls Soobin’s dick out of his underwear, letting out a low whistle. “Guess your hands aren’t the only thing that’s big, Soobinie!” If Soobin wasn’t harder than he’d ever been before in his life, he’d want the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

Coincidentally, that’s exactly what Yeonjun does. 

Apropos of nothing, he takes as much of Soobin into his mouth as possible in one go. “Fuck,” Soobin groans, hand going to Yeonjun’s head of its own accord but stopping short. What if Yeonjun wasn’t into that? Yeonjun, however, hums around his dick, reaching for Soobin’s hand on his own and bringing it to his hair.

“It’s ‘kay,” he pulls off with a small pop to say, “I like having my hair pulled.” _God._ Soobin swallows thickly and allows his fingers to curl into Yeonjun’s locks — they were just as soft as he’d imagined. And then Yeonjun is back at it, tongue laving up and down Soobin’s length, licking delicately at the head before taking him in his mouth again. Soobin can hardly catch his breath.

Soobin wonders what they call it when you’re horny, but in your feelings. Obviously he’s regular-horny as hell right now but his heart was also so, so full. He was heart-horny.

He’s still thinking about this when Yeonjun’s talented tongue does _something_ to the sensitive vein on the underside of Soobin’s cock and he sees stars. Soobin comes, gasping, into Yeonjun’s mouth without so much as a warning.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” Soobin panicks, even through his pleasured daze, “I didn’t mean to—” but Yeonjun just blinks up at him, maintaining eye contact as he swallows.

“Hyung,” Soobin is disproportionately choked up. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“S’fine.” Yeonjun grins, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Loved seeing how gone you were.”

Soobin fists the soft white fabric of Yeonjun’s shirt, pulling him up and back into Soobin’s lap. He wants, no he _needs_ to return the favor. “Yeonjun-hyung, please, can I—”

The door to the room swings open. “THERE YOU ARE! Soobin-hyung, you’ll never believe what Hyuka di—” Taehyun stops in his tracks. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck _fuck_. “Yeonjun-sunbae?” another voice says, hidden from Soobin’s view but sounding as baffled as Taehyun looked. _Of course_ Beomgyu was here too.

“Oh. Sorry for interrupting.” says Taehyun, but he makes no move to close the door, or like, leave. Presumably, the fates had decided that hey, Soobin had already died a bunch of times tonight, what was once more?

“Haven’t you guys ever heard of knocking?” this was from Yeonjun.

Soobin was too busy making sure his crotch wasn’t exposed to notice that Yeonjun had at some point risen and readjusted his hair and clothes back into place. He looked flawless and unruffled, the only thing indicating what they’d been up to were the slight dusting of pink on his cheeks and a line of slowly darkening hickies disappearing under his shirt collar. Soobin distantly realises he wants to cry.

“See you around, Soobinie.” Quick as a flash, Yeonjun drops a kiss onto Soobin’s forehead. “Thanks for tonight.” And with a short wave, he strolls out of the room, seemingly unconcerned with the storm he’d left behind. Soobin looks everywhere but at Taehyun’s shit-eating grin.

“The fuck was that?” says Beomgyu, slipping into satoori in his shock.

“I — I don’t know.” Soobin says, truthfully.

Well, whatever it was, it had been decidedly better than pizza and Terrace House.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yeonbin slaps ! I was heart-horny the entire time I wrote this. thanks for reading!


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, tsym to everyone who left comments and kudos on the last chapter, it means a lot!! I'll try to respond when uni isn't eating me alive

_“Ooh Soobinie, your hands are so-ooo big~”_

_“Thanks Yeonjunie-sunbae! All the better to wrap around your—"_

“Shut up! Plea — just shut up.” Soobin whispers, mortified. Beomgyu and Taehyun pause their dramatic re-enactment of the events of last night that they’d bullied Soobin into spilling, but only to switch to making obscene slurping sounds accompanied by, just in case the message wasn’t clear, pumping fists.

“I can’t _believe_ I missed this.” Huening Kai groans from his place under Soobin’s comforter.

“Who told you to drink so much?” Soobin scolds, ears still burning as he hands him a bottle of water from the bedside table. “You’re a lightweight.”

“It’s for the best.” snickers Beomgyu, flopping down on the mattress next to them. “Knowing you, you would’ve broken the sound barrier with your loud-ass dolphin screech and scared away Soobin-hyung’s boyfriend.” 

“Hyung, for the last time, the sound barrier can only be broken with _speed_ —”

“And for the last time, I told you that’s _nerd talk_ —”

Soobin chucks a pillow at Taehyun and Beomgyu before they can start another loud Science versus Liberal Arts debate, disturbing poor, hungover Kai and everyone else in Soobin’s sophomore share-house. But wow. _Boyfriend_. The word sends little pleasurable shivers down his spine, making the insides of his chest feel all gooey and soft like it had last night with Yeonjun before they’d been so rudely interrupted. 

Alas, Soobin can only dream.

“I didn’t know you were close with Yeonjun-sunbae, hyung.” says Beomgyu, reproachful. “You keeping secrets from us now?”

“I'm not.” Soobin admits sheepishly. “Yesterday was the first time we met. I didn’t even get his number.”

“Classic Soobin-hyung.” Taehyun deadpans, but Beomgyu just tilts his head in apparent confusion. “Wait, you know he’s in a bunch of your classes right?”

“What!” No, Soobin most certainly _did not_ know. Like he’d barely stopped himself from saying last night, he definitely would’ve remembered Yeonjun if he’d seen him before.

“Yeah, like,” Beomgyu’s forehead wrinkles as he tries to think. “Psych and Advanced Lit? And I think he’s in our 5 pm Japanese too.”

Had Soobin been living under a rock? How could Yeonjun have been right in front of him all this time and managed to evade his radar so wholly and completely. Soobin can’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun just hanging out with someone, not to mention how he doesn’t think he can ever look at another couch without inciting some kind of Pavlovian boner recalling Yeonjun’s face and Yeonjun’s tongue. 

“If it’s his number you want, that’s not a problem.” Beomgyu is saying, pulling out his phone. “Our dance class has a Line group chat. I could forward it to you?” he waggles his eyebrows. “For a price, of course."

Soobin sighs. That wasn’t really the issue, but he doesn’t know how to articulate it without sounding stupid, or heartsick, or both.

"Thanks, but I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Mm— What?" Beomgyu looks up sharply, gaze flicking from Soobin to Taehyun and back to Soobin. "What d'you mean?"

“I don't think he likes me like that.” he whispers, finally.

“Hyung, I can’t hear you.” Huening Kai’s voice is muffled from under the sheets.

“I said,” Soobin repeats louder, both for Kai’s benefit and as a reminder to himself. “I don’t think he likes me like that. It was just a party thing, y’know? I was just another hookup. He probably forgot about me already. 

“Because, why wouldn't he? He’s beautiful and good at everything and when he talks people probably _listen_ , like, I know they do. He’s probably one of those Insta-famous campus sweethearts or something, and I’m just. Me.” Soobin can feel he’s rambling now, but he just can’t bring himself to stop.

“And what would I even say to him? _‘Hi, hello, sorry I look worse in natural daylight as opposed to the flattering mood lighting of Jeonnguk’s MTV crib, and sorry there’s no alcohol to make me interesting.’_ Hilarious. Real funny joke, guys.”

When he’s done, there’s total silence in the room long enough for Soobin to hear his housemates noisily recovering from their own hangovers outside his door. There’s a telltale crash followed by cursing, indicating that Jisung had dropped another plate. 

It's broken when Beomgyu throws his arms in the air, exasperated. “I can’t _believe_ you made us listen to that grossly sappy story of the two of you dancing and holding hands—”

“Hey, you asked!” Soobin protests.

“—and talking about saccharine shit like _coffee_ and your _interests_ —” 

“You guys are the ones who wanted to know the details!”

“Not to forget, we saw your actual dick.” Taehyun adds, gravely. “I’m still waiting on monetary compensation for my scarred childhood.”

“NO ONE TOLD YOU TO COME IN—”

“—and for what?” Beomgyu continues, as if Soobin is air. “ _A casual hookup_? You being Classic Choi Soobin and passively accepting whatever life gives you and never, _never_ taking chances ‘cause you’re too scared to go after things you really want? You holed up in your room every week watching shitty Japanese reality shows, trying to convince us that you’re ' _not lonely, you’re fine, you like having a whole pizza to yourself anyways'_? I think not. I think _not_ , hyung.”

Soobin holds up his hands in defeat, giving Beomgyu time to catch his breath. “Alright, I’m done.”

“Bottling things up is unhealthy, Beomgyu-yah.” Soobin says meekly. 

“So is putting yourself down for no reason, hyung." sniffs Beomgyu. "Look, I’ll give you his number and SNS and everything. For _free_. Just, please, promise you won’t let this fizzle out like all your other relationships?”

“Like Soobin-hyung has ever had a real relationship before.” The worst hangover in the world wouldn’t be able to deter Huening Kai from sticking his nose into Soobin’s love life.

“I’ll, um, do my best.” Soobin says, touched, before leaning his weight onto the lump in his bed, the comforter muffling Kai’s screams as his air supply is cut off.

“You better move fast, hyung, ‘cause Yeonjun-sunbae? He’s _popular_ popular. Everyone wants him or something.” Beomgyu stretches leisurely, his work apparently done. “People like him and I have our work cut out trying to fend off suitors.”

“And yet you’re still single.”

“Shut up Taehyun, go divide some atoms or something."

"Yeah, maybe I will, since my degree is actually gonna help contribute to society someday. What is it you study, again? Poetry?" 

“Wah Taehyun-ah! What’s it like having to work hard since you obviously can’t rely on your face or personality!?”

“I don’t know, hyung, what _is_ it like?”

Soobin kicks them both out.

Flashforward to a fortnight later and it’s actually quite impressive how Soobin has made absolutely zero progress on this front.

After Beomgyu mentioned it, it feels like Soobin has been seeing Yeonjun everywhere. He's in three of Soobin's classes, usually at the back with a bunch of friends — all of them impossibly good looking and probably cooler and more fun to hang out with than Soobin will ever be. Soobin wonders if this is why he’s never noticed Yeonjun before, since he himself usually gets there early and sticks to the middle of the hall i.e the strategically most optimal spot to be able to hear the lecturer but also secretly watch mukbangs on his phone if class got too boring. 

There was an incident one Tuesday where he’d looked up from packing his things to meet Yeonjun’s eyes across the room. Yeonjun’s smile had grown wide, his mouth forming the first syllable of Soobin’s name as he raised a hand in a wave, only for Soobin to instinctively duck his head in sudden fluster. By the time he looked up again (wincing in pain after being elbowed sharply in the ribs by Beomgyu), one of Yeonjun’s friends — Changbin, was it? — had an arm thrown around his shoulder, stealing away Yeonjun’s attention and saying something that made him laugh. God, Soobin wished that were him. 

Yeonjun is also in Beomgyu's dance class, which means Soobin often finds himself struck with sudden bouts of generosity that compel him to drop in after practice bearing cold drinks and no ulterior motives whatsoever. This turns out to be a Mistake, since up until the first time Soobin does this, he’d thought it impossible for anyone to look good in a tracksuit and bucket hat. Trust Yeonjun to be the exception. Soobin ends up hightailing out of there without exchanging so much as a word with him, much to Beomgyu’s disgust. 

Soobin briefly tries to content himself with stalking Yeonjun’s social media. His page is a mix of cute dogs, street fashion and about a billion identical practice-room mirror selfies. Perhaps predictably, this does little to alleviate Soobin’s yearning and in fact has the opposite effect of him wanting to know more about Yeonjun, his day and whether Yeonjun personally knows all the people who comment stuff like _Sooo hot, man_ and _Oppa go out with me!!!_ under his photos. There are a _lot_ of those. Soobin tries not to think about it too much.

The first time Soobin jacks off after the night of the party, he comes fast and messy with Yeonjun’s name on his lips. It’s kind of pathetic, really. 

To make matters worse, his professors seemed to have no sympathy at all for his bleeding heart, if the way they kept doling out assignments was any proof. By the time the weekend rolls around, Soobin is two essays, two readings and one Excel sheet behind and dying for a breather. 

He’d sought out the shadiest spot of the quad he could find in hopes of getting some work done, only to end up lounging on the grass next to an open book he hasn’t touched in an hour, playing an ill-advised game of UNO with Taehyun and Kai. 

“What the heck, you can’t stack Draw 4s.”

“Uh, yeah you can. This is how I play with my sisters.”

Soobin eyes Huening Kai with suspicion. “Where did you even get that, Hyuka? I thought you only had two cards left.”

Kai’s face is a picture of faux innocence. “Jus’ had it.”

“Liar.” Taehyun says immediately. “I saw your cards in the reflection of Soobin-hyung’s glasses and you didn’t have any blacks.”

“That’s cheating!”

“It’s not cheating if you cheat a cheater.” 

“What logic—"

“Hyung, check his pockets.” 

“Hyung, believe me, I would _never_ —" Kai's protests are cut short as Soobin playfully tackles him into the grass, shoving his hands into his jacket. “STOP BULLYING ME!”

They're still rolling around on the ground, Kai's high pitched screams no doubt attracting the attention of everyone in the vicinity when a shadow steps into Soobin's line of sight. 

"Hey Soobin." Soobin freezes, looking up to see Yeonjun hovering over them and looking for all the world like some kind of angel, with the way the sun was casting a halo around his blue hair.

“Yeonjun-sunbae!” Soobin disentangles himself from Kai in record speed and tries to scramble to his feet. Of course he’d finally get to talk to Yeonjun today of all days while wearing his rattiest Pokemon t-shirt and jeans that were covered in grass stains and _fuck_ — Soobin self-consciously pushes up his glasses, wondering if it’s too late to hide them.

“Thought I heard you.” Yeonjun says, his voice sounding a little strange. “Who’re your friends?”

“W-who? Oh.” Soobin remembers his manners, albeit reluctantly. “This is Huening Kai, he’s a freshman. And, uh, you’ve met Taehyun.”

“Nice to finally meet you!” Kai chirps. “I’ve heard _so_ much about—” Soobin unsubtly aims a kick to his shins to shut him up but he just shimmies out of range, giggling. Taehyun flicks his wrist by way of greeting, the UNO cards in his hand forming a split fan. Soobin wants to die. Was it too much to ask for his friends to just act normal in front of his crush.

But Yeonjun just nods, seemingly unfazed. His blue hair isn’t styled today, but wild and fluffy. It reminds Soobin of a kitten he used to look after, back home. “What brings you guys out here? I’m betting it’s not the weather.”

“Just trying to get some studying done.” Soobin says, truthfully. It had been the truth, at some point. “Professor Lee was brutal as always, huh?” he adds, hoping to allude to their newly discovered mutual connection. Yeonjun, however, doesn’t look surprised and it strikes Soobin that he must’ve been alone in not knowing that he and Yeonjun sat in the same lecture hall at least four times a week for a whole year. 

“Right, studying.” says Yeonjun, briefly glancing at a point beyond Soobin’s shoulder. 

“What about you, sunbae?” Soobin says, eager to keep the conversation going, a split second before he registers Yeonjun’s baggy pants and the towel slung around his shoulders that clearly indicate he was just out of practice. Fucking dumbass. “I-I mean, how was dance—”

“I thought I told you to call me hyung.” Yeonjun sighs, feigning exasperation — but it quickly crumbles, his face breaking into a smile. Soobin has to look away, it’s too bright. He looks at his feet instead and realizes two things in quick succession: firstly, he’s barefoot (fuck, had Yeonjun noticed this flagrant tackiness?), and then secondly: he’s still taller than Yeonjun without shoes. 

This kindles another dangerous flutter in the pit of Soobin’s stomach — warm, soft, _wanting_. Soobin would be lying if he said he didn’t like the way Yeonjun had to crane his neck up just a little to look at him. In fact, Soobin would be lying if he said there was a single thing he knew so far about Yeonjun that he didn’t like.

_Alright Choi, this is it. Ask him out._

“Yeonjun-hyung,” he begins, heart in his mouth. “I-I was wondering if— ” 

“Oh hey, don’t let me keep you from your thing, Soobinie. I’ll see you in class?” That nickname again. Soobin can only watch, rooted to the spot, as Yeonjun abruptly flips a two fingered salute in goodbye and jogs away to catch up with a group of his dance friends. Well, that was certainly something that happened. He can feel Taehyun and Kai’s gazes boring holes into his back. 

“Wow.” Taehyun says, pity evident in his tone.

Soobin sits down in place, and that’s where he stays, not moving or saying a word for five whole minutes until Beomgyu drops his bag next to them with a thud. “No one ask me to get up for another fifty years.” Beomgyu moans, collapsing facedown in the grass. 

Soobin just sighs, burying his face in his hands.

“What’s wrong with _him_?” he hears Beomgyu say.

“He’s going through it.” Kai replies in a stage whisper. Soobin can almost see Beomgyu’s eyebrows pulling together, but thankfully he’s either too tired from practice or can read the mood because for once, he doesn’t give Soobin shit for being a coward. 

“You know, I tried asking him out once.” he says instead, conversationally. Taehyun’s head snaps around so fast at this it’s a small miracle he doesn’t get whiplash. 

“Wait, deadass?” Huening Kai’s eyes are as big as dinner plates. Soobin is intrigued despite himself — he could do with validation that he isn’t the first to get curved by Yeonjun. 

“Deadass. Like, he’s hot, so.” Beomgyu shrugs. “But he just got offended for some reason?”

“Hang on, that was you trying to hit on him?” Soobin can’t help the laughter that bubbles past his lips, recalling Yeonjun’s scrunched nose when he told him about the mint chocolate disagreement. _God_ , he was so cute. Soobin was so, so fucked.

“Hyung, have you ever considered that maybe insulting someone isn’t the best way to flirt with them?” Taehyun asks wryly and Soobin vaguely wonders how someone can be so smart and so obtuse at the same time. He pointedly doesn’t look at Kai as Beomgyu settles his sweaty head in Taehyun’s lap to only mild complaint from the latter, the irony making a slight whistling sound as it flies over their heads. 

“And you, Soobin-hyung!” Soobin startles when Kai shoves a finger in his face. “Have _you_ ever considered that pining from afar and hoping the other person makes the first move doesn’t count as flirting?”

“But I _did_ try to make the first move!” Soobin whines, slumping backwards and throwing an arm over his eyes. “You were right here, you saw it.”

“If that was it, then it was a pretty pathetic first move.” says Kai gently, patting his knee in sympathy. Soobin can’t even disagree.

“Does it even count as a first move if he already sucked your dick?” Taehyun muses aloud.

“ _Please_ stop bringing that up—”

“Soobin-hyung, you know what your problem is? You’re so. Passive. All you have to do is go up to him and be like ‘ _Hey, I really like you and wanna kiss you lots._ ’ but for some reason you just. Don’t.”

“Well shit, Huening, I could’ve told him that.” This is from Beomgyu. 

“Beomgyu-hyung, you can’t even get a date, though?”

“He’s doing his best, Taehyun.” Soobin interrupts swiftly, for the sake of everyone involved. “He’s doing his best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter got really long while I was writing it so I decided to split it into 2. hopefully that means the next update will be soon and not [checks calender] one lunar month like this one was lmao
> 
> oh btw I recently made a [twt](https://twitter.com/yeonbinned)!! come scream at me abt yeonbin


	3. 3

_You’re so passive._ That’s what Huening Kai had said and alright, Soobin gets it. He’d always been the kind of kid to simply pass it off with a shrug when someone stole his toys on the playground, or when his ice-cream slipped off it's cone. Back in highschool, he often gave up the last sweet bread roll from the vending machine to wide-eyed, waiting juniors. He let other people cut ahead of him in line at the movies. He never corrected restaurant servers when they got his order wrong.

“ _It’s not a crime to want things, hyung._ ” A smaller, scrawnier Beomgyu rolls his eyes in Soobin’s memory. 

“ _It’s not a crime to be kind, either._ ” seventeen-year-old Soobin shot back, sipping his almond milk. He’d have preferred a bread roll, but whatever.

“ _Hope you’re not confusing kindness with cowardice there._ ”

“ _Why is me being non-confrontational such a big deal? It doesn’t matter._ ” 

“ _Nothing ever does, with you._ ” Beomgyu had sighed cryptically, going back to poking at his rice.

Soobin gets it. On some fundamental level, he’s always been aware and it’s always sort of bothered him. Which is why he’s here outside the campus cafe on a chilly Autumn night, an hour into Yeonjun’s shift. Partly to rewrite the lore of the Classic Choi Soobin of old, partly to spite Beomgyu and Kai everyone else that had made fun of his general doormat-ry. But mostly — _mostly_ because he hasn’t seen Yeonjun since that day on the quad and he kind of, sort of, really misses him.

Soobin hunches his shoulders so his scarf covers more surface area, shivering in the cold. In retrospect, it probably hadn't been the best idea to forgo a hat but he’d spent upwards of twenty minutes fixing his hair and he wasn’t about to let it go to waste. A gust of wind ruffles it anyway, proof that the Powers That Be didn’t give a damn about Soobin or his hair. A bad omen, for sure.

(Huening Kai was the only one he’d told about his plans. It had been a little concerning when he hadn’t immediately been met with overwhelming positivity. 

“Not that I don’t want you to find love, hyung,” the boy had begun tentatively, “But don’t you think a dramatic confession at his place of work is a little, um, extra?”

Soobin couldn’t help it — he was a pretty _all or nothing_ kind of guy and so far he’d been, well, mostly nothing. He wanted to change that. 

In the end though, Kai had given Soobin his blessing and a reminder to take along an umbrella because the weather forecast showed chances of rain — to which Soobin had wearily responded that it couldn’t possibly be worse than the rain in his heart. This earned him a punch, but Soobin supposes he deserved it.)

After another ten or so minutes, he huffs, giving in. He’d wanted to wait until the cafe was empty but it couldn’t be helped. 

Soobin slides into the booth closest to the door, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He realizes immediately that this is a tactical error on his part because it puts him with his back to the counter, Yeonjun out of his line of view (a crime in and of itself). He sighs, resigning himself to perusing the menu, even though he's been here often enough to know it by heart. 

He’d caught a glimpse of Yeonjun from outside, during the quarter of an hour where he’d been hovering in the parking lot like a creep. _No one_ should be allowed to look that hot in the university sanctioned cafe uniform, it simply wasn’t fair. 

His palms feel sweaty despite the outside temperature. Just as he’s considering chickening out, the bell on the front door jingles, signalling that the last customer has left.

Soobin can feel his heart hammering in his throat. Alright, there was nothing to it. He was going to march up to the counter and tell Yeonjun how he felt. He was going to ask him out. This was nothing. This was easy. Soobin could do this in his slee—

“Can I get you anything?” Soobin just barely stops himself from squeaking. He hadn’t heard Yeonjun’s footsteps coming up behind him for how loud his own thoughts had been. He looks up and Yeonjun is there, notepad in hand. God, the orange and black apron was even tackier up close, clashing with Yeonjun’s blue hair and _yet_. And yet Soobin is ridiculously endeared.

 _It’s Yeonjun_. Yeonjun is here. 

“U-um.” he begins eloquently, pretending to be very interested in the summery cursive script that reads _All Day Breakfast_. “Can I get an, um, black coffee?” What was he _doing_ , Soobin didn’t even like black coffee.

Yeonjun raises a perfect eyebrow. “Will that be all?”

Soobin feels like his mouth is full of wool. “Yeah, that’ll be all.”

Yeonjun nods wordlessly and goes back to the counter. No lopsided smile, no “ _Soobinie”_. Soobin is a little confused, but truly, honestly? He can’t say he didn’t see this coming. Ever since that day on the quad, he’d gotten the vague feeling, a sort of half-notion perhaps, that Yeonjun is avoiding him. 

It’s probably presumptuous of him, since they didn’t really have much of a relationship to begin with (unless there was a specific category for “a hell of a blowjob at a house party followed by weeks of one-sided pining”, but Soobin doubted it), but now that Soobin had apparently become ultra-aware of all things Yeonjun, he’s started to notice… stuff.

Yeonjun arrives at class after Soobin is seated and leaves as soon as the lecture is over. He doesn’t smile or wave when their eyes meet across the cafeteria, instead turning away to talk to whoever's next to him. He doesn’t seem to notice when Soobin visits the dance studio. It _scares_ Soobin that despite all this he’d somehow had the gall to come here and try his luck tonight, even though all the signs pointed to it ending up a horrific disaster. _Top 10 Anime Deaths_ , he could see it now.

He’s still masochistically picking this thought apart when a ring-adorned hand sets down a chocolate croissant in front of him. 

Soobin can’t hide his surprise. “This isn’t what I ordered.”

“I know.” Yeonjun says, crossing his arms. “But caffeine after 9 pm doesn’t sound like such a great idea. Plus, you don’t even like black coffee.”

Soobin feels that familiar lump in his throat forming again, sweet this time. “You _remembered._ ” he says breathlessly. 

Yeonjun stiffens, like he’d been caught doing something wrong. “‘S’nothing. Enjoy your croissant.” he says, somewhat curtly, before turning on his heel to walk away and no. This isn’t right. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. It’s not “nothing” to Soobin. Without thinking, his arm snaps out to catch Yeonjun’s wrist.

Yeonjun looks over his shoulder, obviously startled. Soobin stares down at his own treacherous hand before letting go immediately. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to, I— I just. Can we talk for a minute?” he says, eyes pleading.

Yeonjun stares at the floor, at Soobin’s face and then back again. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of Soobin’s stomach — had he been right after all? Did Yeonjun not want to see him? But then Yeonjun relaxes, sliding into the booth opposite Soobin. He tries not to let his relief show on his face. 

“You know I’m still technically on the clock, right?” says Yeonjun, curling one arm under the other and leaning forward. “I’m a broke college student and there’s money to be made.” They’re both tall, which makes it difficult to sit without their knees touching — not that Soobin is making any attempt at otherwise. He hopes it’s a good sign that Yeonjun isn’t, either.

“You said it yourself that there are no customers at this time of night.” Soobin says in a small voice. As if in response, there’s a clap of thunder outside and it starts to rain. Ah fuck, Soobin never did end up bringing that umbrella. Looks like he was going to be stuck here for a while. “And now you definitely won’t have any more?” he finishes optimistically.

Yeonjun just turns his gaze out the window, his fingers drumming restlessly on the cheap wooden table in rhythm with the raindrops outside. It strikes Soobin that this is only the third interaction the two of them have ever had — The first being when he'd had his tongue down Yeonjun's throat and the second disastrous attempt when Yeonjun had fled before Soobin could get a word out. It's strange because it _feels_ like more, just by virtue of how often Yeonjun runs through his mind on a daily basis. 

Soobin steels himself, making a conscious effort to switch honorifics. “Yeonjun-hyung—”

“Hey, do you wanna make out?” Yeonjun says abrubtly.

Soobin blinks. “What?”

“Make out. You and me. Like, right now.” Yeonjun elaborates, covering all the bases.

Soobin may have been taken by surprise, but he’s no fool. Well, maybe he’s a little bit of a fool, because he’d come here with a purpose and a plan but was willing to throw all that out the window without a second thought if it meant Yeonjun was going to kiss him again.

“I locked the door?” Yeonjun adds, biting his lip, as if that was legitimately a thing Soobin was concerned about. Like something as insignificant as a glass rectangle could deter him at this point. 

“Yeah.” He breathes, before Yeonjun can change his mind. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

It’s hard to say who reaches for the other first.

Yeonjun kissed like he was trying to win an Olympic medal for who could bring the other person to their knees faster. There’s teeth and tongue and if Soobin wasn’t somewhat better equipped this time around — both with prior experience of Yeonjun's prodigal skill and the single-minded focus of someone who’d wanted nothing more than to do just this for the better part of the month — he’d probably have caved.

There's a hunger in the way Yeonjun fists at the short hairs at Soobin's nape, almost desperate. Almost as if he'd been thinking about Soobin every bit as much as Soobin had been thinking of him. 

Yeonjun's tongue swipes the roof of Soobin's mouth and it's like flipping a switch. There’s a clatter of cutlery as Soobin climbs over the side of the table and bodily hauls Yeonjun out of his seat and up into his arms.

Yeonjun makes a noise of surprise when his feet leave the ground but seems to adapt quickly, if the way he instinctively wraps his legs around Soobin's waist is any indication. Soobin can't help but grin. 

“You’re heavier than you look, hyung.” Soobin says between kisses, staggering a little under the older boy’s weight. He uses the hand that isn't gripping Yeonjun's thigh to brace them against the table for support. 

“If, _ah_ , you’re gonna complain then maybe I should just—” Yeonjun starts to say but Soobin cuts him off with a sharp nip at his Adam’s apple that makes him honest-to-god moan. The idea of Yeonjun going anywhere else at the moment was unthinkable.

"Hyung I— I'm so glad I got to see you today." Soobin murmurs, moving to the side of Yeonjun's neck. He feels like his heart might burst with the sheer volume of his emotions, tearing through fabric and skin and spilling all over the café's clean, tiled floors. "I wanted to, so much." Yeonjun just groans in response, tightening his grip around Soobin's shoulders.

“I wanted to do _this._ So much.”

"Soobin, s-shut up, please."

“Missed you.” Try as he might, Soobin can’t stop his mindless babbling. “You look so good all — _all_ the time."

Soobin exhales into Yeonjun's skin, the heat of the moment dissolving his brain-to-mouth filter completely. "I wish I could do this all the time. Every day."

He's just about to connect their lips again when Yeonjun pushes him away.

"Put me down."

Soobin stops, the words like a bucket of ice-cold water. He obliges, hurt and confused — but mostly, terrified that he’d gone too far. Yeonjun drops back into the plastic seat, steadily avoiding Soobin’s gaze.

"I. I can’t do this.” he says, softly.

Soobin holds up his hands, hating himself. “H-hyung, I'm sorry, was I going too fast—?"

“Soobinie.” Yeonjun says, and the single word is enough to shut him up. “No, I’m the one who should apologize.”

Soobin is lost. “Wh—”

“If this _thing,”_ Yeonjun gestures between the two of them, “We’ve got going on is just gonna be, I don’t know, a friends-with-benefits thing, then I can’t. I can’t do it. Sorry.”

Soobin slumps into the seat opposite Yeonjun, shaking his head furiously. “No, hyung, you don’t underst—”

“No, _you_ don’t understand.” Yeonjun says, sounding troubled. “I shouldn’t have approached you that day.”

The words sting way more than Soobin could have anticipated. He can’t believe he’d misunderstood the situation so badly. Before he can consider making up a lame excuse to leave, Yeonjun continues. 

“At the party, I— I just dragged you along to my whims.” Yeonjun is saying. “I know you’re not the kind of guy to randomly hook up with strangers, so of course you would’ve been uncomfortable.” he sighs, long and weary. “I’m sorry, I was being selfish and only thinking of myself.”

Soobin opens and closes his mouth in disbelief. What the hell was Yeonjun on about. Had it not been blindingly obvious how much he’d enjoyed himself? But before he can say a thing, Yeonjun keeps talking, his words coming out in a rush.

“You’re just so _nice_ and I took advantage of that. I was lonely and’d had a few drinks and you were there by yourself looking stupidly good and I just thought, _fuck it,_ this might be my only chance to be with him. And _of course_ you indulged me,” Yeonjun stops, out of breath. To Soobin’s shock and awe, he hunches over, burying his face in his arms. Soobin has to listen very closely to hear his next words, mumbled into the tabletop, “—because that’s just who you are.”

Alright, Soobin is _properly_ confused.

“Hyung, what are you even saying?”

“I’m _saying_ I can’t just make out or mess around with you without wanting more. It hurts too much.” Yeonjun straightens slightly, but still doesn’t remove his hands from his face. “Because I’ve had a _huge_ fucking crush on you ever since you won that All You Can Eat Bread contest at the Orientation Fair last year.”

“Last year?” Soobin repeats weakly, his brain a deafening roar of _crush crush crush._ And then distantly, _that’s what does it for him?_

“Yeah, but I never tried anything because, well. You didn’t seem to notice I existed? And I wasn’t used to that.” Among the billion thoughts whizzing through his head, Soobin reserves one to beat himself up over being an oblivious idiot who never looked beyond his immediate bubble of existence.

“That night was so fun — more than I’d ever imagined — and it made me get my hopes up, y’know? Like, hey, maybe Soobin could be into me if I tried.” Yeonjun is saying. “But after that you started avoiding me and I thought maybe you didn’t think it was a big deal—”

“Me?” Soobin’s voice pitches embarrassingly high. He clears his throat and tries again. “You were the one avoiding _me_ , hyung!”

“You looked away every time I tried saying hi.” Yeonjun’s tone isn’t accusatory, but resigned, like he’s merely stating facts. “You never spoke to me any of the times you visited the dance studio. I waved at you once and you ran away.”

 _Oh._ Okay, Soobin was dumb, they’d already established that. But his behaviour required context and he suddenly feels light as a cloud when he realises he can provide it without fearing the outcome. 

“Hyung, hey, look at me.” Soobin leans forward, gently wrapping his fingers around Yeonjun’s own from where they’re still hiding his face. “Please?”

“Nnh.” Yeonjun mumbles, but concedes, letting Soobin pull his hands away. His cheeks are flushed pink like Beomgyu’s sometimes get when he’s embarrassed or upset. He still isn’t looking at Soobin though, so Soobin ducks and tilts his head to get to Yeonjun’s level. 

“I _ran away_ because I was too nervous to talk to you. Because I liked you so much.”

Yeonjun makes a strangled noise between a scoff and whimper. “Don’t.”

“No, _really!_ You're all I think about these days. Ask any of my friends, I haven’t shut up about you since that night we met.”

Yeonjun glances at him out of the corner of his eye, his lower lip curling in a pout. “Those kids on the quad? Are you sure they’re just friends?”

Soobin blinks at this completely new curveball. “Am I sure— what?” and then it dawns on him. “Ew, hyung, you thought I liked _Huening Kai_? Gross!”

Yeonjun shrugs, embarrassed. “I didn’t know what to think.”

“Trust me, you don’t ever have to be worried about Kai Kamal Huening.” Soobin says firmly. “ _You’re_ the one I want, Yeonjun-hyung.”

Yeonjun looks at him head-on for what feels like the first time that night.

“Really?” he says, like he doesn't dare to believe it.

“Really.” Soobin confirms.

Yeonjun laughs, relief colouring his voice and yeah. It's still the best thing Soobin's ever heard.

“So. Since last year, huh?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t just confess to not shutting up about me for a month.”

“Fair.”

  
  
  
  


“Hey, it stopped raining.” Soobin sticks a hand out from under the awning, the other holding Yeonjun's, their fingers entwined. It’s a little sticky from the chocolate croissant they’d split earlier, but Soobin doesn’t mind.

“I can’t lock up unless you let go, dude.” says Yeonjun, fiddling one-handedly with the keys.

“Not worth it." Soobin says decidedly. "Can’t we go back inside?” he whines, swinging their arms between them. “It’s still cold as balls out here.”

Yeonjun snorts, but he sounds fond when he says, “Why’d you come out without a hat, dumbass?” 

“Didn’t want to mess up my hair.” Soobin replies, sounding disgustingly happy even to his own ears. “It’s fine though, ‘cause I have hyung to keep me warm.”

Yeonjun pulls a face, but obligingly reaches over to cup his palms on either side of Soobin’s head. In an uncharacteristic display of pluck, Soobin covers one of Yeonjun’s hands with his own and brings it to his lips to brush a kiss across the knuckles. Corny, perhaps, but it’s worth it to watch how Yeonjun goes pink in the soft glow of the cafe’s neon _Closed_ sign. 

“By any chance, are your lips cold too, Soobinie?” Yeonjun breathes rather than says. Soobin gulps, feeling a shift in the air.

“Freezing.” he replies.  
  
  
  
  
  


"If I'd known y'all were going to be _this_ sappy and gross I would've gone to Beomgyu-hyung's slam poetry meet." Kai grumbles good-naturedly, chewing on the paper straw that came with his grape juice.

"It's fine, those things happen like, twice a week." Soobin tells him, grinning when Yeonjun tightens his hold around his shoulder. "Plus I think Taehyun went, so. Do you really wanna be around that kind of UST right now?"

Kai throws up his arms in mock exasperation. "No matter where I go, I'm the third wheel! This is Huening-phobic."

"That's not true." Yeonjun says thoughtfully. "Sometimes you're the fifth wheel."

Soobin's smile grows wider as Kai squawks in protest, Yeonjun using the distraction to steal some of his fries. It was remarkable how effortlessly he'd fit into Soobin's friend circle and routine, almost as if there had been a Yeonjun-shaped hole before that none of them had known about. It's only been a couple of weeks since they'd — _God_ — started dating _(wow!)_ but Soobin already can't remember what his life was like before Yeonjun. 

He thinks about this later, when Yeonjun is cuddled up with him on his rickety twin bed, Soobin's laptop perched precariously between them on their thighs. 

"I thought you said this didn't have any drama?!" Yeonjun exclaims, eyes glued to the screen.

"Well, depends on what you consider drama." Soobin says, pressing pause on the episode of Terrace House.

"Yo, Kotaro needs to, like, sort out his priorities. If he can't see how great Miyu is then he doesn't deserve her. Misaki and Miyu's chemistry, though? Off the charts. But my girl Misaki needs to gain some self-confidence first or she'll never be able to confess. Love yourself and all that."

Soobin must've taken too long to reply, because Yeonjun turns to look at him.

"What?" he says, the corners of his mouth curling upwards at the no doubt dopey softness on Soobin's face.

"Nothing, just." _I'm really happy_. "Thinking about how I ought to treat Hyuka and Taehyun to dinner."

Yeonjun raises a brow but doesn't say anything, instead choosing to smile up at him, nose scrunching in that stupidly cute way of his. Soobin’s heart does it's familiar little tap-dance. He doesn't know how he'll ever get used to this.

But he wants to. Oh, he wants to. He feels warm and content with Yeonjun curled up by his side and he kind of never wants it to stop. He wants to see Yeonjun every day, and walk back after class together, and go on coffee dates, and send each other funny Life Hack videos, and talk about nothing and eat pizza for four (for _two_ ). Or whatever Yeonjun likes, really. Soobin isn’t particular.

It’s a little worrying how far gone he is after virtually no time at all but Soobin can't help it! Yeonjun is just so funny and cool and cute and _—_

“Hey Soobin-ah, I’m gonna try something, ‘kay?” Yeonjun’s grin turns feral as he suddenly swings a leg over Soobin’s lap. “Don’t come until I say so.”

Soobin was going to _die_.

But, he figures as his hands instinctively settle on Yeonjun's waist, there were probably worse ways to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND it's done!! tysm for reading + to everyone who left comments and kudos!!! <3
> 
> I amn juste..... a litle creacher...... that loves [clenches fist] yeonbin
> 
> [(twt)](https://twitter.com/yeonbinned)


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